Aden's footsteps echoed in the silence, the torchlight flickering against the damp stone walls. The deeper he went, the heavier the air became, thick with something unseen—something ancient. He had felt this weight before, standing in the ruins of places that once held power. But this was different.
This wasn't just a ruin.
It was a grave.
The passage narrowed as he stepped forward, the symbols on the walls growing more intricate. Some looked familiar—patterns he had seen before in old records—but others were alien, twisting in ways that made his head throb if he stared too long. Whatever had been here before the system collapsed… it hadn't been human.
Aden reached the end of the corridor and found himself in a massive chamber. At its center stood a pedestal, and on it—a relic.
It wasn't gold or adorned with jewels. Instead, it was a simple, weathered stone tablet, covered in the same strange markings. But the moment his eyes landed on it, something in his mind stirred.
A memory that wasn't his.
His vision blurred. The temple around him seemed to breathe, the torches flaring as if feeding on his presence. A deep hum filled the air, resonating in his bones.
Then the floor shifted.
Aden barely had time to react before the ground cracked apart beneath him. He threw himself backward, landing hard as jagged stone spikes erupted from where he had stood. The temple wasn't just testing him anymore. It was trying to kill him.
He scrambled to his feet, but the air itself turned against him. A force lashed out, unseen but violent, throwing him against the wall. His knife slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly across the floor.
Pain flared in his ribs. He forced himself up, vision swimming. The relic pulsed with energy, something awakening—something watching.
Then the world shifted.
His breath hitched as his surroundings bled away, colors smearing into darkness.
And in that darkness…
A voice spoke.
A voice from the past.